


keep a light on

by acchikocchi



Series: Past and Future [4]
Category: Tenimyu RPF
Genre: M/M, gross fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 11:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18916450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acchikocchi/pseuds/acchikocchi
Summary: Most of the ensemble knows Daisuke has a boyfriend. They just haven't met him yet.





	keep a light on

**Author's Note:**

> i think june and i have been talking about this idea for going on three years now, so i thought it was about time to write something down. once again, thanks to june for audiencing, and thanks to you, anonymous ao3 visitor, for reading. i love this verse so much and i'm so glad to finally contribute something to it. ♥
> 
> title from for the foxes' "running back to you," the ultimate futurefic song. 
> 
> p.s. i'm not kidding about the gross fluff.
> 
> eta 5/25/19: just discovered badly formatted tags ate two paragraphs in the middle of the first scene. fixed now, but if you were here before... there's new content now! sigh.

Sho texts him about twenty minutes to curtain, the perfect time: after he's done with the final touches of costume and makeup, before he's completely enveloped in show headspace, where even his boyfriend is a distraction. _Not good luck, because you don't need it. Congratulations, because your hard work is gonna pay off just like it always does._

Daisuke touches the screen and smiles to himself. That's what Sho always says.

Before he can anwer, the screen lights up. The smile grows wider. He knows it's in his voice when he says, "Sho?"

" _Hey. All ready?_ "

The background noise is awful; Sho must have stepped outside the theater. "Ready as I'll ever be."

" _Of course you are._ "

"Going to tell me to break a leg?"

" _No way. You better take good care of those legs. I have plans for them._ "

Daisuke laughs, at the same time a little shiver goes up his spine. "Just my legs? That's a little weird."

" _Shut up._ " Sho's laughing, too. " _I'll save the full description for later._ "

"You're very thoughtful, director-san."

" _Assistant._ "

"For now." He talks over Sho's half-hearted protest. "How's the show?"

" _Better every night. As long as we can keep Ayato and Miura from trading the prop swords for real ones and murdering each other on stage, we'll be golden._ "

"I can't wait to see it." Sho's closing night is in three days; Daisuke already has his ticket to Osaka.

" _I can't wait to hear what you think._ " A deep breath. " _I wish I could—_ "

"No, no, no, you're right where you should be. You love this series, and Suemitsu-san trusted you with day supervision, and next time _you're_ going to be the one making—" The tumble of words comes to a stop, because Sho is laughing.

" _All right, all right. You're a tough customer, Hirose, you know that?_ "

"You better remember it." Daisuke pauses and cups his hand over the mouthpiece, as the intercom reminds him _Fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes to curtain._

"That was—"

" _I heard. Get going._ "

"I'll call you after. I want to tell you everything." Silence except for the crackle of noise. "Sho?"

Sho's voice drops and he says, " _I love you._ " 

Daisuke glances around. It's not like he's the only person who's ever taken a private call in the dressing room, but at least two of his fellow ensemble members are staring at him pointedly, wearing shit-eating grins. He can feel his cheeks heating up as he ducks his head again. "I know," he murmurs, hoping the rest makes it through. "I'll see you soon."

Sho says, " _Knock 'em dead._ "

By the time he's hung up, Mayumin – Okazaki Mayumi -- is perched on the chair next to his. "So, Dai-chan. That was the boyfriend, hm?"

What's the point in denying it, when he knows his cheeks are red and he can feel the corners of his traitorous mouth creeping upward, that smile that just won't go away when he talks to Sho? Or talks about Sho, or thinks about Sho, and really, it's been three years, you'd think he'd have a little more control by now.

"He can't make the show, so he called to say…" Daisuke trails off.

Mayumin clicks her tongue. "Too busy for closing night? And this one's a good one. Not a theater fan, then."

Daisuke almost laughs aloud at that, but it's too much to explain why right now. He settles for, "He's in Osaka. For work. There's no way he could have gotten here in time."

"Mmm." Daisuke twists around; Goro's on his other side. "Raking in that overtime, hmm? A rich boyfriend's all well and good, but I hope he respects your career."

He's ninety percent sure Goro's teasing, but he can't help saying, "He's not rich!"

"Then why are you dating him?"

"I—"

"Now, now," Mayumin says. "Just because he's an awful philistine doesn't mean he's not a good person. I'm sure he's very supportive of Dai-chan."

There are, truly, no words for what Sho has done for him – does for him, every day – so Daisuke just gives a helpless little smile. Goro surveys him. "He does have that glowing, pampered young bride look."

"Excuse you!"

"That beautiful face, though, wasted on a salaryman…" Goro shakes his head sadly. "I hope he appreciates it."

If anything, Daisuke's cheeks get warmer, and he manages to say, without stumbling, "He does," which makes Mayumin and Goro burst into identical peals of laughter.

" _Ooh_ , does he. I see. Good!" Mayumin shakes a mock-threatening finger at him. "He might have escaped for now, but next time. Just mark my words. We'll make you drag him in someday."

When Daisuke was in the spotlight, he'd never quite realized the community in the shadows. Professional dancers, acrobats, freshly fledged talent, never-quite-made-it thespians who hadn't – couldn't – let it go. People like him, a little of both. Sometimes, depending on the show, depending on the director, depending on the leads, you felt like part of the marquee. Sometimes you didn't. And then it really mattered, that little cast-within-a-cast, that all together you could get the work done. That you could trust each other.

He'd decided, early on, that he wasn't going to hide. That was the whole point of being here. So most of the ensemble know he has a boyfriend, because he's worked with half of them before, and probably the rest of the cast by now as well. That's fine. It took a full year before he'd stopped bracing himself, automatically, whenever he went through a round of introductions, or entered a brand-new green room, sure somewhere deep down that everyone knew a story, maybe _the_ story – no matter how often his rational mind (or maybe the voice of Utsumi) told him that a year ago was ancient news, five years ago was practically another lifetime. If the gossip these days is that he has a brilliant, kind, successful boyfriend who loves him through his mistakes and makes him feel like he can do anything – Daisuke doesn't mind that at all.

An authoritative clap breaks through the dressing room clamor. Director Nakabayashi's arrived, which means there's five minutes to curtain. "All right, here we go. Huddle up!"

The lead is a semi-established pick off the B-Star roster, handsome face, decent chops; the foil, a nineteen-year-old fresh from Niigata. They share a separate dressing room, but they're here flanking Nakabayashi now. Daisuke and his friends get to their feet.

"Last but not least, right?"

"Sprint to the finish."

"Let's make the most of it," Daisuke agrees, as they join the huddle.

There will be plenty of time for introspection later. Right now, the stage is waiting.

*

The curtain falls for the last time and Daisuke stays bent at the waist for just a moment longer as around him the cast erupt into cheers. It's not a big production, and it's not a big theater, but Nakabayashi has a vision – more accurately, a Vision – and the ensemble choreography is intricate, carefully timed, a human clockwork machine. It was hard, and it took work, and they did it. They did it perfectly.

Daisuke straightens up and lets a deep breath out. There's nothing on earth that feels like this.

The cast and crew are a mess of cheers and hugs and applause. Kou-kun, from Niigata, is doubled over crying – with exhaustion or relief, Daisuke doesn't know. He hugs Mayumin tight and pats Kou-kun on the back and double high fives Fukada-san and shakes hands with Ryou-chan the choreographer. Somehow he's still one of the first to slip away backstage, electric buzz still zipping through his limbs, euphoria or adrenaline or both, because even if curtain's down in Osaka he'll leave a message, he has to share this with—

There's a vase of red flowers in front of his mirror.

There hadn't been anything in the lobby. He'd looked them over, not because he really expected anything, but because they were pretty, and because after you'd costarred with Akazawa Tomoru you never really lost the habit. But lobby flowers are for other people to see. These are for him.

Up close, they're carnations, a deep, rich red. Knowing Sho, they mean something. Daisuke lifts a hand to stroke the velvety petals, catching on his fingertips.

"Pride. And admiration."

Daisuke turns around.

So much for three years. As long as he lives he'll never stop feeling this. The buoyant swell of warmth and rightness and _home_ , at the sight of Jinnai Sho coming to find him again.

"And love," Sho adds, never once looking away from Daisuke's eyes.

He knows he's smiling helplessly, shaking his head. "Why do I ever believe you when you say you're out of town, it's been thirteen years, why haven't I—" He's already moving by the third word, stumbling, tripping over someone's scarf, and the end of the sentence is lost as he lands in Sho's arms.

It's only been three weeks. It feels longer. Daisuke presses his face against the crisp material of Sho's dress shirt and breathes in deep. It might be called clinging, but that's all right. Sho's holding him just as tightly.

"You were fantastic," Sho says in his ear.

Daisuke smiles into the shirt.

"Not just you. The whole ensemble. You were like—moving artwork."

Daisuke pulls back. "Right? Right? Nakabayashi-san picked the choreographer especially because of how he uses bodies as building blocks, he told us—"

"—end of the first act, I didn't see where it was going at all and then what's his name, Kai or Kou or whatever—"

"—thought I was going to die but by the end I could _feel_ where everyone else was, like we were tied together with strings, honestly—"

"—when the sentence is passed and they're separated by the crowd, the blocking, I think my mouth actually fell open—"

They come to a halt at the same time, Daisuke beaming, Sho's face lit up, nothing but pure, fierce excitement. God, Daisuke loves him so much his chest hurts.

He remembers, finally. "What about the show? Did you even have—no, I know there was a real show—"

"Got the night off and grabbed the bullet train the minute the matinee curtain was down." Sho tucks an escaped lock of hair behind Daisuke's ear. "They'll survive one night without me."

Daisuke tries to frown. "I can't believe you lied to me."

"Did I lie?" That teasing smile is all too familiar. "Did I say, Hirose Daisuke, I'm not going to closing night for the show you haven't stopped talking about for the last three months?"

"Yes!" Daisuke hits Sho's arm. "You told me there wasn't enough time to get here after the soiree and apologized like fifty times!"

"Not since my plans changed. I just didn't update you on them."

"You're the _worst_ ," Daisuke says, by which he means the best, and wraps both arms around Sho's neck to kiss him.

After a minute it occurs to him that the dressing room might have been empty when he arrived, but it definitely isn't now. There's at least half a dozen people removing makeup and starting cool-down stretches and milling around congratulating each other, and no one is actually looking at them but he can see knowing smiles and pointed attempts not to make eye contact in the mirror and Sachiko-san is definitely only pretending to be texting. Kou, who doesn't even belong in this dressing room, is bright red and determinedly looking anywhere but at them. Oops.

"Um," Daisuke says, and they let each other go.

"Oops?" Sho says, with a lopsided grin. He's still holding Daisuke's hand.

"Oops," Daisuke echoes, in a voice that is not one bit regretful at all.

Which is good, because the next thing he hears is—

"Hand-holding! Scandalous. Who allowed this?"

"Oh _my_ , Dai-chan, don't tell me you've snuck in a—oh, I beg your pardon, Jinnai-san—wait."

Mayumin's eyes move from Sho, to Daisuke, and back again. Beside her, Goro's eyes have risen nearly to his hairline.

Sho blinks, and slides seamlessly into professional mode. "Okazaki-san. Right?"

Mayumin ignores him. The full weight of her gaze is on Daisuke. "Dai-chan," she says precisely. "Your boyfriend is Jinnai Sho."

Goro gasps. " _That's_ Jinnai Sho?"

"Your boyfriend, the 'hard worker', is a Watanabe AD. Suemitsu Kenichi's special protégé. That Jinnai Sho."

Goro looks personally affronted. "You said he was a salaryman."

"I never said that!" Daisuke protests. "I said he's busy with work, and he is!"

"I'm just a humble company employee. " That grin Daisuke also knows, a good-humored, self-deprecatory smile, disarming and charming: Sho's not-so-secretly pleased. (Tomoru always calls him vain. Maybe. It's not like there isn't plenty to be vain about, in Daisuke's opinion.) "Okazaki-san, I think we met during—"

"— _Fourteen Night Moon_ , that's right, you were assistant to the director. And half my friends are in _Kaleidoscope._ "

"Which is in Osaka," Daisuke says. "For another three days."

"You." Mayumin pins him with one long, red-nailed outstretched finger. "Quiet." To Goro: "And to think we were worried. Worried our Dai-chan was wasted on some desk slave with a heart of gold and a face like a monkey who likes beer and baseball and is probably going bald and pot-bellied."

Goro's inspecting Sho from head to toe. "Doesn't look like that's going to be a problem, does it?"

Sho ignores Daisuke, who's trying and failing not to giggle. "Sorry, have we…?"

"Hayashi Goro," Goro says, "I don't believe I've had the pleasure," and—did he just bat his eyelashes? Is he _flirting?_ Daisuke's mouth drops open in mostly-mock indignation. Goro winks at him.

Sho shakes his hand. "Thanks for taking care of Daisuke."

"Oh my god," Daisuke says, putting his hands to his face, which is burning, but also somehow he's smiling again. He tries covering his mouth with his hands. That doesn't help.

"He's a real talent. You don't find a teammate like Daisuke just anywhere."

"Don't I know it," Sho says, pride and belief so rock-solid—

It's a good thing Kou interrupts before Daisuke does something embarrassing. "Um? Okazaki-san? Hayashi-san?" Barely perceptible hesitation. "Hirose-san? Just wanted to make sure you knew, we're headed to Kagamiya for the after party, the directions should be in your email."

"Tsk, making the newbie herd the cats." Mayumin ruffles his hair, which takes some work since Kou is a good fifteen centimeters taller than she is. "Poor thing."

"No, I, um, I volunteered to check in." He can barely look at Daisuke. It doesn't seem like he's creeped out, just embarrassed out of his mind. "I wanted to say thank you." Mayumin and Goro _awww_. Kou soldiers on. "I mean. I hope you come. You're all my—my senpai and—I learned a lot from you." He does manage to make eye contact, then, and Daisuke's surprised to see the fervor in his expression.

Hmm.

"Don't worry," Mayumin says. "We'll be there. You go clean up." Kou obeys, and she turns to Sho and Daisuke. "Well? Coming to celebrate with us, or…?" The perfect arch of her perfect eyebrow is somehow unspeakably insinuating.

"I—wait, what time is it?" Daisuke grabs Sho's wrist and lifts it to check the heavy silver watch, then tilts his head and bends Sho's arm in an L when he realizes the face is upside down. It sort of helps. "When's the last train back?"

Sho's gaze is so affectionate he might just melt in the middle of the dressing room. "You're not getting rid of me that easy, Hirose. I'll catch an early morning train tomorrow."

And that—that's perfect, except—

"Bring him along," Goro suggests, waggling his eyebrows. 

Daisuke looks from his friends, his coworkers and comrades, to Sho.

Three weeks. And he can stay up as late as he wants, but Sho has a two hour train ride and a full day of work ahead. But they've been his family for the last three months, in the way it always happens, even if the show's bad and the family's dysfunctional. And Kou—it's just a hunch. But he's learned not to ignore those hunches.

"Nope," Sho says firmly. "Go celebrate. This is for you. Outsiders don't come to closing night party." He could argue that Sho's not an outsider, but he knows what Sho is saying, and he's right. "I'm gonna go back to the apartment and spend a precious few hours not thinking about whether half a dozen teenage vampire Impressionists are going to be able to make it to the end of the week without killing each other."

Daisuke gives in. "Okay. For a couple hours. Then I'm coming back."

"As long as you want."

"You know what I want."

Goro whistles. Daisuke does _not_ blush, he—yes, fine, he does, he didn't mean it that way! But also, well.

"Good," Mayumin says firmly, and claps one hand on each shoulder. "We'll get him back to you in one piece, Jinnai-san."

"I'm counting on it," Sho says. "It was good to meet you, Hayashi-san."

"I hope we see you again." Goro leers. Daisuke tries to hit him and misses as Mayumin propels him back toward his dressing table.

"Now hurry up and get that makeup off." She casts an assessing glance at Sho. "Maybe keep the eyeliner. You've got five minutes."

A familiar hand catches his own. "Hey." Daisuke turns, and Sho gives him one last private smile, warm enough to light him up for the rest of the evening. "I'll see you at home."

Home.

Home, and Sho.

That's good enough for Daisuke.


End file.
